Chapter six
With only three weeks left of the internship, Grimilda wasn’t going to let her interns go to waste. She piled on the work, leaving us no time to recover in between projects. There were some days that I wouldn’t see Malfoy until we were both back in the office, gathering our things to head home. I couldn’t complain, though, since when we were working together, Malfoy finally decided to work with me instead of ignoring me.
Something shifted between us. I walked into the office on Monday and instead of pretending I didn’t exist, he nodded his head in greeting. He asked for my opinion on things and finally admitted that my French wasn’t all that bad. Although, he still couldn’t help himself from correcting my grammar any chance he could get.
We still had one last round of permits to submit, one for each student transferring to Hogwarts for the next year. Seven French permits, seven Bulgarian permits. All our preparations had been leading to this and yet I still felt unprepared.
But we weren’t the only ones struggling. My mother’s department was in constant battle with the Department of Sports and Games. The final cut of what games would be played during the tournament were still undecided. Each time something was suggested, there would be endless arguments against it. It would have been nice to vent to my mom about what we were both dealing with at work, but she was still upset with me for getting home so late. She was not impressed by my blatant disrespect (her words, not mine) by eschewing my curfew. I was now expected straight home after work each day and no plans on the weekends for the foreseeable future.
Malfoy and I had been debating the translations of some obscure French law on student etiquette when I finally gave up and threw the papers aside.
“Alright, I can’t take this anymore. I’m going to the café, do you want anything?”
Malfoy had his head in his hands, his fingers touching over the top of his head. He looked over at me, the exhaustion in his eyes apparent.
“From downstairs? No, thank you,” he said with a grimace.
“Oh, I’m sorry, is cafeteria food not good enough for you?”
“Precisely. But please feel free to eat that drivel.”
“It’s really not that bad. It’s unfair for you to judge something before you’ve even tried it.”
Malfoy let out a long, exasperated sigh then pushed his chair back from his desk.
“Fine, if you insist. If only to get you to shut up.” He stood up and brushed his hands over his pants, straightened his collar, and grabbed his robes.
My eyes followed the way his fingers nimbly looped each button through the small hole and guided it through to the other side. He worked quickly, the motions like second nature to him. One by one, he reached the top of his robes. When he raised his hands to his hair to smooth it back, our eyes briefly caught one another’s.
“Well, come on then,” I said and spun out of the room.
He followed behind, catching up to me just as the blush faded from my cheeks. We walked together in silence. I kept my hands in my pockets and stared straight ahead as we entered the cafeteria.
“You can’t be serious,” he said as he looked at the options ahead. I rolled my eyes and pushed him forward as the line moved.
“I see now why you skip lunch so often.”
The options today weren’t even bad, so I didn’t understand his disgust. Each day there were different meals from all over the world available. I assume house elves did all the cooking, but I never saw a single one. The food was just there for the taking, all pre-portioned onto plates and bowls. Today they were serving what looked like Japanese food along with the more generic, blatantly British options.
“What? You don’t like seafood?” I asked as I grabbed a plate of sushi.
Draco snorted. “I have a rule when it comes to seafood. If I can’t see the body of water where it is from, then it’s travelled too far to be on my plate.”
I opened my mouth to retort, but I couldn’t find anything exactly wrong with that rule. If anything, it made perfect sense.
“I’d like to think the Ministry wouldn’t feed its employees rotten fish.” I said, although I did place my plate of sushi back on the counter for someone else to grab.
“Alright, Winters, you’ve made your point. Can we please eat somewhere a bit more civilized now?”
“Ugh—you haven’t even tried anything yet!” I argued, but Malfoy had made up his mind. He stepped out of line and motioned for me to follow him, looking impatient as always.
I had no choice but to follow him. Except, I did have a choice, and I chose to struggle to keep up with his long strides. All the way out of the cafeteria, through the Atrium, and to the fireplaces.
“Wait, where are we going?” I hesitated as Malfoy began to walk into one of the open fireplaces.
“I let you drag me to that godforsaken cafeteria, now I’m taking you to where wizards who respect themselves eat.” When I still didn’t move, Malfoy rolled his eyes and held out his hand. “Just trust me.”
I considered his outstretched hand, my palms suddenly feeling uncomfortably sweaty and my heart beating uncharacteristically fast. Before I could tell myself all the reasons why this wasn’t a good idea, I grabbed Malfoy’s hand and stepped into the fireplace.
He breathed a sigh of relief and muttered the name of our mystery destination.
Did this count as breaking my grounding? I thought as we spun through the floo network, our bodies pressed against one another. I didn’t have enough time to come up with an argument as to why this would be considered within my curfew before we were spat out at the correct fireplace. Malfoy stepped out with grace and ease while I stumbled against the walls of our destination’s fireplace.
“Ah, Monsieur Malfoy, good to see you again. Shall I prepare the usual table?” I heard a much too formal voice announce while I was busy straightening my robes and smoothing my hair.
“Yes, please, for two,” Malfoy responded.
“Oui monsieur, c’est comme ça,” the waiter responded, and my ears perked up.
“Wait a minute…” I looked up and studied the restaurant finally.
There was something considerably French about the décor, as well as the view outside the large, floor to ceiling windows that surrounded the dining room. And was that the Eiffel Tower?
“Malfoy!” I hissed under my breath as I followed him to the table. “You didn’t say we were travelling internationally for lunch !”
“Here you are, monsieur. May I get you and the lady something to drink to get you started?”
“Two waters will be fine for now, Pieter, thank you,” Malfoy responded as he completely ignored my bewildered looks.
To make matters even more annoying, he held out my chair and wouldn’t move until I took my seat.
Once he sat across from me and our waiter was gone, I repeated my question.
“I thought you liked French food,” he said in response as he looked down at the menu.
“That’s—not—you know that’s not what I’m saying!” I sputtered.
Malfoy finally set the menu down and looked up at me, his face the perfect image of unbothered.
“Then what’s the problem, Winters? Not cafeteria enough for you?”
I opened my mouth to retort but remembered our surroundings. This would not be the best place to start an argument with Malfoy, not unless I wanted to cross “get thrown out of a fancy French restaurant” off my bucket list.
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” I resorted to saying as I picked up my menu.
“I think what you’re meaning to say is ‘Thank you Malfoy for bringing me to a restaurant that I would otherwise never have the opportunity to enjoy, you are so generous and kind.’”
“Ha! In your dreams.”
I glanced up at him through my lashes, keeping the menu raised to hide behind. He had the slightest hint of a grin on his lips. While he was looking at the menu, his eyes weren’t moving, and he set it down without reading it, it seemed. I quickly looked back down at my own menu and tried to decipher what to order amongst the slim number of options.
“So, is this where you pop off to for lunch every day?” I asked, my eyes still staring at the menu.
“Occasionally,” he responded. I glanced up at him again and he had his eyes on the window.
I followed his gaze. It was a spectacular view, one that most people only see in guidebooks. We were right on the Seine with the Eiffel Tower looming in the distance. A few boats were gliding by while the late afternoon sun glistened against the water. The tops of hundreds of tourists’ heads walked beneath us to their destinations. The world looked so small from up here. I almost forgot that we were technically on a lunch break from work. And that I was sitting across from Draco Malfoy of all people.
When I turned back to look at him, his eyes were already on me.
“You should try le canard, c’est magnifique.”
“Oh. Um,” I cleared my throat and looked back at the menu, “yeah, maybe.”
I stared at the words without reading.
Eventually, the waiter returned and took our orders. I ordered the duck, avoiding Malfoy’s self-satisfied smile.
Any awkwardness I felt before seemed to disappear once our food arrived. The duck was magnificent, I admitted reluctantly. Malfoy seemed more at ease here than he did at the office. I noticed he talked a lot with his hands, he looked me in the eyes unwaveringly, and he let me finish speaking before responding, interrupting must have been beaten out of him in etiquette classes.
We finished our lunches and sipped on our fizzy water. It was starting to get late and I began to fear what would happen if Grimilda went looking for us and we were nowhere to be found.
“Oh, don’t worry about her. She thinks we are in the archives looking up answers for our obscure French legislature,” Malfoy said with a nonchalant wave of his hand.
“That’s brilliant,” I said with a smile.
“But, we probably shouldn’t push our luck,” I said as my mother’s disapproving face popped into my head.
Malfoy wiped his mouth (quite gently I might add) and shrugged. “If you don’t want to hang out with me any longer, all you have to do is say so.”
“Ugh! You are such a little—”
Malfoy smirked and got up from the table. “If you’ll excusez-moi, I must run to les toilettes.”
He walked away before I could finish my insult.
“Pardon, madame,” the waiter returned to clear the table and refill our waters.
“Merci bien,” I said, leaning back from the table.
“Ah, you speak French, je suis impressionné,” he responded with a wink.
“Oh, only a little.” I blushed.
“It is not every day I see a beautiful lady accompanying Monsieur Malfoy, nonetheless one that speaks French as well as you.”
“Oh, we’re only—”
“Je vous souhaite bonne chance, jeune femme.” The waiter said with another smile before he stepped away from the table and disappeared.
Malfoy returned to the table a moment later, looking dashingly refreshed.
“Shall we make our way back to that dusty old office now?” He asked.
Whether it was from how high we were in the sky, or the fact that we had travelled by floo to a completely different country, I began to feel slightly dizzy. I stood up from the table the best I could and nodded my head.
“You okay?” Malfoy asked as he stepped towards me. I moved away from him and tried to smile.
“I’m good. Let’s go.”
I turned and walked back to the fireplace where a short line had gathered. One by one the wizards stepped through to return to their lives, all satiated from their fine dining.
Malfoy stood behind me silently.
It was finally our turn to enter the fireplace. I stepped in beside Malfoy and held onto the sleeve of his robe before he threw down the powder and said ‘Ministry of Magic!’
Grimilda had not, in fact, noticed our extended leave of absence, but was actually proud to see us working so hard in our office once she came around. Malfoy and I sat at our separate desks, both scribbling on our parchments in silence. I was barely paying attention to what I wrote. My head still felt dizzy, and I still wasn’t sure if it was from the floo or the lunch.
The day came to an end and Malfoy gathered his things to leave. He lingered at the door and seemed as though he was going to say something, but thought better of it, and left without a word.
Minutes later, once I was sure I had given him enough time to get to the fireplaces and leave, I packed up my things as well.
“How was work today, honey?” My father asked as I walked past him in the living room towards the stairs.
“Huh? Oh, it was fine. Good. Thanks.” I said before I kept walking.
That night, I stared at my ceiling, in no mood for dinner, and nowhere near tired enough to go to sleep yet. I had been staring for so long now, the pattern of our textured ceilings had begun to swirl and move behind my eyelids.
Something had shifted between Malfoy and I alright, and I was only just now realizing what that might have been. Something that should have left right in its place, that’s what.
I turned onto my side and stared at my desk instead.
There was something dangerous brewing inside me. The thought of Malfoy no longer raised bile in my throat. The scent of his cologne, which I had gotten a big enough whiff of in the floo, no longer made me want to hurl. My thoughts lingered on the way his hand looked outstretched towards me, or how his fingers felt curled around my own as he held onto me while we swirled through the floo network side by side. I wondered what his arms felt like wrapped around me like that.
“Heather, you need to get a grip.” I muttered to myself as I shifted in my bed, unable to find a position I was comfortable in.
I wonder what Malfoy’s bed looks like…
STOP THAT!
I shoved my pillow into my face and screamed.
There’s only three more weeks, I reminded myself. Three more weeks of this internship, and then I will never be in the same room with him again. Well, except at Hogwarts…
But I won’t think about that right now. Instead, I put all my focus into thinking about anything other than Hogwarts and the many different places one can hide in the abandoned hallways, or the way robes can cover almost anything, including wandering hands underneath a classroom table.
I screamed once more into my pillow. Okay, now, no more thoughts about Malfoy. Starting…now.